


A Date with Destiny

by dreamii



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Dark, F/M, Romance, Sexual Assault, Spoilers maybe?, age gap, date, ernesto is scary, idk - Freeform, last chapter gets touchy, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-02-27 04:30:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13240467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamii/pseuds/dreamii
Summary: You, like most others, loved Ernesto De La Cruz and his completely original songs. So the oppurtunity to go on a date with him was something most women (or men) only fantasized about.  But is he really all that he's made up to be?((second part: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13921758 ))





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> A friend gave me the idea to do this. I noticed there were little to no /reader fics for coco, which is maaaaaybe a good thing but... whatever lol. second chapter will be a hopefully more juicy with whats to come...  
> I'm sorry if there are any mistakes in the spanish, or my writing in general!
> 
> yn= your name (your last name is Arguello just cuz)  
> Ernesto is around 41-42, you are in your 20s and a female ((EDIT: I REALIZE HOW GIVING READER A GENDER CONFLICTS THE WHOLE /READER THING LOL IGNORE IT IF YOU WANT))

"Ay, (yn), I still can't believe you're going on a date with  _the_ Ernesto De La Cruz! You must be so excited!" 

You were dragged out from your thoughts by the shrill squeal of your younger sister Cecilia who stood behind your seated body, dragging a brush through your (hair length) hair. The two of you were sat in front of a vanity lit by candles of varying sizes and absolutely  _trashed_ with beauty products, semi-high end and make shift. You really couldn't believe it either- how could you, a young, naïve woman land a date with such a popular man as Ernesto himself? You smiled weakly at this thought.  _Guess I'm just lucky._

 

It was a weird encounter, really; You worked at a cantina your father own and ran, washing tables and keeping the place as tidy as possible (as if that was even possible with the crowds that came!) One evening, as the men and women began to scatter,  _he_ strolled in. And he was just as beautiful as his damned images, and most definitely he knew it. He sported a familiar pale yellow mariachi suit (you could recognize it because he wore it in his _"Music Spectacular"_ performance last year), and pitch black hair gelled with that signature curl. In his early 40s, you could tell age was starting to get the best of him, evident by the slight greying of his hair on his temples. Behind him in tow trailed three other men you recognized from his shows, cheering and letting out boisterous laughs. You could feel yourself and the other patrons of the cantina freeze in place at the sight of these men. What were they doing here?! You knew Ernesto had a show tonight as apart of his Tour across Mexico, but there were so many other cantinas open that night...

"Señor De La Cruz! Bienvenido! Uh..." Your father, who typically worked behind the bar, tugged at the collar of his shirt awkwardly. You rolled your eyes and wondered if he could get anymore embarrassing. What you didn't realize, however, was the way your cheeks heated up as Ernesto and his group sat down near where you stood. "What can I get for you this evening?"

Every song Ernesto had ever written and performed were your favourites. You had most of his albums on record, even! However, _"Recuérdame"_ was your all time favourite. During noon hours when you weren't working in your fathers cantina, you were dancing in your room to the song, as if Ernesto were there singing it to you himself. And now... he was here. 

"A round of tequila for myself and mis amigos." Ernesto grinned towards your father who immediately moved to get the drinks prepared, but not before beckoning you over with a violent wave of his hand. "(yn), go wipe down their table and replace the cutlery! Dios mío, mi hija, we have a celebrity who has chosen to drink in our establishment!" He hissed under his breath as not to let the fine celebrities hear him scold his dear daughter. You furrowed your brows and sighed at his panic, "I was going to do that-" You couldn't even finish your sentence as your father stuffed a clean cloth in your hands.

Truth be told, you were only acting calm so that you wouldn't repel the famous men who now sat in the bar who were now chattering amongst each other. But even as you moved over to quickly clean the table they now sat at, you still couldn't hide that blush which now stained your cheeks. Pushing your hair behind your ears, you utter a soft "Pardon me," and swiftly wipe down the table while being sure to avoid any eye contact,  _especially_ with De La Cruz. Ernesto realized this and smiled.

As you straightened up and started to turn away he reached out a hand to stop you. Like before, you freeze in place and slowly glance down at the older man who was now holding onto your wrist with such a light touch. "It's rather late for a girl like yourself to be working, isn't it?" He queried. It was a sincere question, but you didn't like simply being called 'girl'. Instead of correcting him (which would surely cause your freaked out father to faint, he may have been a bigger fan of De La Cruz than you were!), you responded with, "I usually work during weekday nights. There's always some sort of interesting crowd you get to meet." Ernesto chuckled and slowly let go of you. 

"I can only imagine. I just finished up a performance and decided mis amigos and I would drink before retiring for the night." Ernesto explained, nodding at your father as he set down their drinks finally before scurrying away to serve the other customers who were still watching in awe. 

"Retire for the night, Ernesto? Hah! We'll see about that, eh?" One of the other men whose face you recognized exclaimed, followed by some laughs. Ernesto shook his head and looked back up at you. "We'll try not to cause you too much of a problem." 

"Oh, no, señor, don't worry about it!" You exclaim. "You enjoy yourselves, I bet you're tired from your show tonight." Ernesto leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his drink, "Somewhat. But... the power music has over me, it's as if whenever I perform, it only brings me more energy." The pure passion in his words cause you to melt inside and you nod eagerly. "Of course! That makes... sense because of... your passion for music."  _Could you be anymore lame, (yn)?!_ You were ready to leave once again, before Ernesto asks, "Do you like music?"

"Sí, I do. I love music. Your music especially inspired me to pursue some form of the arts... I'm not one with instruments, but I can dance. Er, well, I can sort of dance, more so to myself." As you speak, your hands unknowingly fiddle with the hem of the apron you had tied around your (colour) skirt. Ernesto's perfectly groomed eyebrow quirks upwards with interest. "Dancing is one of the best ways to express yourself when words cannot, even if it's just to yourself. The songs I've written, each have come from my heart where a simple sentence could not suffice. If you like to dance, then  _dance_ , my dear!" 

You were truly touched by his encouragement. Your family, they simply didn't think that you were cut out to be a dancer or that it was even a real profession, that your purpose was to simply help the family earn money through the cantina and eventually run it when father would pass away. God, how you envied wished you could be as trying as Ernesto. His passion had gotten him so far, and now he was the most famous musician in the country! Realizing you hadn't said a single word and Ernesto was now staring at you expectantly, you smile gratefully. "Gracias," was all you could find in yourself to say.

"What's your name?" Ernesto suddenly asks. 

"O-oh, um, (yn) Arguello." You stammer, beginning to feel slightly awkward and embarrassed. 

"(yn) Arguello..." Ernesto repeats to himself softly, as if testing it on his tongue. You blush. "A beautiful name, fit for a beautiful girl." At this point, you couldn't care less if he called you girl or even child! THE Ernesto De La Cruz had just called you beautiful! And you were beautiful, many locals knew this. Boys had gone out of their way to try and ask for your hand but it never felt... right. 

"I-I should go finish cleaning... it was such an honour to meet you, Señor De La Cruz-"

"Ernesto." He corrects. "And, the pleasure is all mine." Setting his glass down on the wooden table, he tips his sombrero with a charming, toothy grin.

Your blush intensifies at this action. "...Ernesto." Before you could make yourself feel even more ridiculous, you hurry off to the back hall, where the bathrooms as well as a break room were. It was quite far back within the cantina, and dark, since there had been no lights put in place because of money issues. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you take a moment of deep breathing to calm it and yourself down. Yet through the panic and embarrassment, you felt ecstatic! _Looks like there are advantages to working in dad's cantina!_ You think to yourself with a breathy laugh. Not only had your idol given you the encouragement to pursue dancing, you got to see in person how strong his adoration for music was and...  _"A beautiful name, fit for a beautiful girl."_ The words echo in your head and you bite your lip. Of course, he most likely said that to every woman, but there was something about actually being told it that made it feel like you were the only one. Goodness, he was so handsome and charming, a perfectly example of how a proper older man should be! Your beaming smile slowly fades. Right. He was older, much older than you. You were just entering adulthood, so how could he  _possibly_ think of you as an attractive, mature woman? A sigh escapes your lips, and you turn around to get back to work.

Half an hour passes, and you found yourself back in the hall. Ernesto was still in the cantina, the last time you saw him being him singing some of his most famous songs with other people. Stepping slightly inside the break room, you slowly begin to undo the apron that had been around your waist to replace it with a less dirty, and quite frankly, less sweaty one no thanks to your palms. But as you begin to do so, a set of much larger and stronger hands touch yours and begin to untie it slowly for you. Your eyes widen with a mixture of fear and confusion, you instantly knew this wasn't your father. There were times where men had attempted to take advantage of you during your evening hours, so this wasn't a foreign experience. Just as you were about to harshly elbow the figure who stood so close behind you, a deep voice murmurs into your right ear, causing pulsing shudders to run along the length of your body. Your eyes squeeze shut as Ernesto De La Cruz speaks to you in a tone of voice you had never heard before.

"I could tell from the start that you were much different from other women I've met, (yn). You have a passion for dance, and yet..." the apron falls to the ground. "...you still dedicate yourself to working in your padre's cantina. I've only just met you, but the thought of you cannot leave my mind even as I take part in conversation with others." 

A hand traces up your spine to brush your hair to the other side, revealing a bare shoulder. 

"I'd love to see you dance for me sometime, if it's alright with you. You've caught my attention and I'd _love_ to get to know you better as well as help you in any way possible... I realize your family must not be doing to well, so I thought I should share with you that I'm in need of new dancers for my shows."

It was as if your heart was about to implode right inside your chest. You had never... felt like this before. There was a deep, heated feeling within your lower stomach. Young, untaken. That's exactly how society saw proper young ladies and how you felt right now. The offer of joining him as a dancer only added to your rising excitement; not only would you be able to work alongside the greatest musician of all time, but the pay... you'd be making a wonderful amount of money! Your family needed this,  _you_ needed this.  _And him,_ a voice whispers at the back of your mind. 

"I..." Just as you were about to accept, you stop yourself in reminder that... did you even qualify as a good dancer? So many doubts began to bubble up to the surface, but all traces of thought disappear immediately as a warm kiss is planted on your vulnerable shoulder. Breath hitches in your throat. 

"Please, (yn)... allow me to at least take you out for dinner tomorrow evening. If it makes you uncomfortable, you do not need to dance for me but I will still extend an invitation to some resources that can set you up for an audition. Foolish as it may be, but I believe that _you_ can release me from the isolation my heart has begun to feel, and oh, how I _ACHE_ for an ounce of genuine affection that can only come from _your_ fragile hands. I know that somewhere within you,  _you want this, sí?_ " Another kiss is planted, this time closer to your neck which causes another vibration of shudders to pass through your body. You couldn't understand why he suddenly wanted you, wasn't he famous enough? Didn't he have the love and affection of his fans? Why couldn't you find it in yourself to stop this old man? It was extremely inappropriate, and yet...

"Simply allow me the chance to treat you to dinner, that's all I ask." His previously soft voice becomes more husky as if you were starting to test his patience. Yet another kiss presses against your neck now, harder and more greedy than the tender ones before. You frown at this and instinctively pull out from his grip, turning to face him. Ernesto is clearly taken aback by the sudden movement, but he spreads open his arms widely out at his sides and declares, "Quiero demostrar que puedo amar a alguien, you! Please, (yn), it'll only be one evening. I will make it worth while."

Before you can stop yourself, you say, "Alright. I accept, Ernesto." Ernesto lets out a laugh and brushes a hand against your cheek, "Perfect!" You were somewhat surprised by his quick shift in attitude, and still had many questions for the man, but he continues to speak. "Tomorrow, at let's say... 8:00 PM, meet me in the park."

"The park?"

"Sí." 

You wondered why not just a restaurant, but the park was probably more romantic. Or something like that. You give him a shy smile. "Okay. The park." 

Winking, Ernesto steps out of the room and walks away back to the crowd. You can hear him give a hearty laugh and clap his hands as music continues, leaving you alone, blushing and confused. 

 

Cecilia gently places a brilliantly red rose at the back of your head, securing the flower with a clip just as you finish applying a thin layer of lip stick. "Oh, (yn), you look beautiful. Far prettier than any of the other girls in his movies! Hey, does dad know?"

You scoff. "No, and you're not about to go tell him, you understand?" You stand up and smooth out the ruffles of your deep (colour) coloured dress. "I don't want to be spied on. Plus, I'm not a child. I am an adult, and can do what I want."

"That's not what dad thinks!~" Cecilia sings, and you quickly shoo her out of your room with a giggle. Alone now, you take a moment to stare at your reflection. "Why me?" You wonder aloud. "Why am I special? How am I supposed to... release him from isolation? He's a famous celebrity, he should be anything but isolated..." As you talk to yourself, you begin to move about your room, grabbing a light coat as well as a purse. These questions were only causing you to become anxious. A date with De La Cruz. Glancing at yourself once more in the mirror, you smirk and instantly forget all previous anxieties, before heading out the door.


	2. The Date: Part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Were your palms always this sweaty?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks again to my friend to seriously helped me out with this chapter!  
> it was decided that, rather than ending it at two chapters, there will be a third...

A cool ocean breeze floats across a warm evening in Puerto Vallarta, your beautiful home town. The sun sets across the ocean; the park’s grass tickles your ankles as you sit waiting, almost feeling foolish to believe that a man like de la Cruz would really make time for a cantina girl like yourself.  _ Maybe _ , you think,  _ maybe it was just the tequila talking.  _ After all, what is someone so much older doing talking that way to someone your age? Your doubts are all at once swept away with the quiet strumming of a guitar chord. 

Dressed much less extravagantly than he had been the night before, de la Cruz is suddenly sitting by your side, his signature grin on his face and a different guitar in his hands. You had only ever seen him dressed this way in a few interviews- A white button-up shirt and red suspenders, attached to clean black slacks. After a moment you realize you’re staring and saying nothing and quickly turn your head down and stare at your shoes. You had to sneak out with the nice clothes you had on now, leaving in your apron and changing into them in the cramped space of a taqueria’s bathroom. You were extra careful not to be seen by any of your family members as you snuck out; though you truly felt like a responsible adult, a small part of you felt a need to stay loyal to your familia as much as possible, especially when they were in need of as much help as possible with the cantina. Now that you really took a look at your shoes, you see that your night of cleaning and shining them had gone to waste: after just a few minutes outside, they’d already become dusty and stained with grass. 

The soft strumming of the guitar continues as Ernesto de la Cruz begins to speak, “You look even more radiant than yesterday, (yn).” 

If not for the light dusting of pink hued blush, your cheeks would have given Ernesto a pretty decent response to his compliment. “Gracias, Señ-  _ Ernesto. _ ” Ernesto looks pleased that you corrected yourself for him. “May I see those beautiful (ec)’s of yours?” he asks softly, causing you to mentally kick yourself for being so awkward. Carefully, you raise your face to meet his, feeling for a moment as if you’re lost in those beautiful brown eyes. 

A smile on de la Cruz’s face accompanies the resumed strumming of his guitar, rising and taking a few steps away from the bench while nodding at you to follow him. You instantly recognized the song as “El Camino al Casa,” one of your favorites behind “Recuérdame.” Lifting your skirt, you hurry after the man with bubbling anticipation.

“It took me quite a while to set this up,” Ernesto explains as he leads you back to a grassy area under a tree, a clear view of the beach visible from there. A checkered blanket is spread across the grass, a sizable basket on one corner, with a bottle of some type of drink resting against it- wine, you think. Partially melted candles sit along another side, varying in sizes and all unlit. Your mouth opens in awe at what he’s done for the two of you.  _ So it really is a date, _ you think, biting back a squeal of girly excitement. Ernesto glances back at you and chuckles as he sets his guitar against the trunk of a tree. “You like it?” 

“I… it… it’s lovely, Ernesto.” You gasp. No one had ever taken the time to do something like this for you before! “I feel bad- I didn’t bring anything as a gift, no wine or anything. I can run back to my house, though-”

“No, señorita (yn), there’s no need for that. I’m doing this all for you. The only gift you can give me that I  _ will  _ accept is your lovely presence!” You were somewhat grateful that Ernesto didn’t allow you to get a bottle of wine from your house. Your father would never let you leave with it! Scanning the setup once more, you notice one thing that was missing: food. Wasn’t that an… essential part of dinner? You didn’t want to question it though, you didn’t want to sound like a pig. If anything, you were just excited to see what Ernesto had in store for you tonight. 

At Ernesto’s invitation, you slowly take a seat on the blanket. At the back of your mind, you remembered his offer to have you dance for him in exchange for a chance to join him at his future concerts.  _ Maybe I should just see if he even remembers, first. When I go home, I’ll ask him if he can give me the names of who I should contact. Can’t risk making a fool out of myself in front of him…  _

You watch as Ernesto pulls out a gold lighter from his pocket and lights the candles one by one. “I have a very special meal prepared for us, señorita, using recipes that my dear abuelita taught me alone before her passing.” He reaches into the basket, almost impossibly packed with foods, and begins laying out a feast on the blanket. Quite a bit more food than you were expecting for a simple picnic, but you couldn’t complain;  _ any _ departure from the daily routine of quesadillas and chilaquiles was a good one at this point. Out of the basket comes three steaming ears of corn, kitchenware packed full with carnitas, chorizo, and fried fish. From another bowl comes freshly prepared salsa, ground up cheese from another, and from the last bowl comes a favorite of yours: ceviche. 

“It all looks so amazing! Oh, Ernesto, I really hope this wasn’t a bother to you…” It seemed like he had spent so much time working on this! Ernesto holds up a hand and you immediately shut your mouth. “Señorita, all of this I did for you, it was no bother at all. Besides, my dear abuelita, bless her heart, would have  _ wanted  _ her recipes to be shared with others. I think you’ll like them!” He gives you a sincere smile while handing you a plate as well as a wine glass. Both you take, however the wine glass made you nervous- you weren’t much of a… “wine drinker”. Sure you worked in a cantina, but you had never really had a full glass of alcohol before, merely sips with friends. But you weren’t about to let de la Cruz know that. 

Ernesto was already beginning to fill up your glass, so tonight was the night you  _ really  _ proved you were an adult! You accept the glass and give a quiet thanks. "So, Ernesto, how long are you staying in Puerto Vallarta for?"

"About two more days, and then it's back on the road as I finish up the remainder of my tour. After that, I'll be filming a new movie, but I don't want to spoil too much about it." He winks and takes a long sip from his wine. 

"You must be so exhausted all the time!" You exclaim as you too take a sip- a small one, of course, and you found that you didn't really mind the flavour.

"There are some days where I am indeed exhausted. But I try not to let it weaken me, not when I have expecting fans. Whenever I am tired out and feel like giving up, I simply pick up my guitar and play whatever comes to mind." 

You felt like you had heard that somewhere before, but offered a smile in understanding. "Surely your fans would understand if you wanted to take a break?" 

Ernesto purses his lips for a moment as he watches you take a bite of some food. "Would your familia understand if you wanted to simply take a break?" he asked quietly. You blink and take the question into consideration. No, they wouldn't, not when money had become such an issue and each family member needed to pull their own weight. You weren't sure that was a very fair comparison to make, however. "No." you finally reply.

"The world, (yn), is mi familia, and I cannot disappoint them." Ernesto concludes, and no more was said about the topic. You two eat and share some more small talk; you learn of Ernesto's life before becoming famous, and you could instantly tell that his music career  _was_ his life, as if it was all he had going for him. You tell him some of your life as well, like helping out at the cantina and why you enjoyed dancing and such. It felt  _so good_ to be able to talk to someone so intimately. You two had more in common than you thought. Eventually, the both of you finish eating.

“Well, mi pequeña flor, would you like me to play you something?” Ernesto reaches back for his guitar and readjusts himself so that he’s in a kneeling position with the guitar propped up on his knee. You can feel your face redden at the name, but you smile past it and nod. And ever-so-skillfully, Ernesto de la Cruz demonstrates his mastery.

_ “ _ _ Recuérdame, hoy me tengo que ir, mi amor _

_ ¡Recuérdame! No llores, por favor…” _

You instantly forgot about your worries as this beautiful, beautiful man played for you. His music was even more heartfelt and fervent in person! Yet as he sang, he looked at you and only you with such a fiery intensity, it only reminded you of the reality of this situation.  _ What did I do I deserve this?  _ Unknowingly, your eyes travel down to stare at the blanket as you listen, where you could spot a small bug. Carefully, you reach out a hand to simply shoo it away before the singing stops mid-sentence. 

“Now, now, (yn). Just how am I supposed to look into those pretty eyes of yours if you’re staring down at a bug?” Without wasting another second, the small creature is stomped on by Ernesto’s shoe. 

Your eyebrows raise as you glance back up at him, slightly off-put by how sudden his actions were.  _ Maybe he just doesn’t like bugs? _

“That’s better.”

The singing resumes and you are once again whisked away by the majesty of both his voice and song. As it comes to an end, Ernesto pretends to bow dramatically as if it’s to an audience, causing you to giggle. “Gracias, gracias!”

“That was wonderful, Ernesto!” You exclaim, clapping your hands together as he bows. He flashes you a charming smile while continuing to strum a few chords, “ Recuérdame is my most prized creation. It…” His words trail off.

“It what?”

Ernesto shakes his head and regains his composure. “Nothing, dear (yn). It’s always a little difficult to explain my music, it’s all just so personal.”

“But you still sing to the world,” Your head tilts to the side.

“Si,” Ernesto idly runs a hand along the wooden frame of the guitar. “I like to believe that those who listen can take comfort in my songs, relate to them. Find their own meanings within the lyrics.”

You open your mouth for a second before snapping it shut, simply accepting the answer with a nod. Like before, Ernesto looks pleased with you, and reaches a hand over to gently cup your face, allowing a thumb to trace circles against your soft skin. You melt into this touch almost immediately. “The way the candles illuminate your features is absolutely mesmerizing, (yn). You look even more radiant than yesterday.” 

_ You said that before,  _ you think. But it was still a compliment, right? And the way he was looking at you, it was obvious he meant it. Pulling back, he adjusts his guitar and starts singing again, a song you instantly recognize as “Bésame Mucho.” A romantic song, to be sure, but a little odd to hear someone like de la Cruz covering it in such a romantic setting. 

The date eventually moves across the street to the beach. You sit with your blanket on the sand, watching the sun set and finishing the ceviche. Ernesto does not get anywhere near the water, which confuses you slightly- he had starred in many movies where his character had to swim for his life! 

Guitar put away, Ernesto was now sitting next to you, a hand lazily running through your hair. “You know,” he begins. “our date doesn’t need to end here.”

You glance sideways at him. “What do you mean?”

“Come home with me.” 

Your first thought is,  _ he has a house in your city?  _ But you remind yourself that this man is quite wealthy, so he probably has numerous rented homes in the different cities he frequently visits. “Um…” you let out a nervous laugh. “I… promised my family I’d be home before 10:00.” More importantly, you promised an eager Cecilia you’d be home to tell her all about the date.

He makes a comment about how a responsible, grown woman can be trusted to go out on her own and doesn’t  _ need _ to answer to her family when she wants to go out. He was right, why did you have to have to constantly be kept on a tight leash? Here was the man of basically EVERYONE’S dreams offering to take you to his house for… some reason. You didn’t try to think too much into  _ why _ . 

“Come on, (yn). I think you’d enjoy this very much. I know I would…” He leans over, but you inch away unintentionally, and stare down at the sand. Ernesto raises a brow and eventually lets out a small sigh, smoothing his hair back. “Forgive me señorita, I had assumed you were enjoying this. I suppose I was mistaken.”

"Oh, no, I..." You weren’t sure how you were feeling. Everything that had happened that evening had been such a blur to you. Your chin is lifted and turned to look at the older man, “I can tell that you’ve never had a man treat you right. Let me change that. Come home with me.”

If you hadn’t been so conflicted by thoughts of whether or not it was right to agree to him, you’d be somewhat insulted by his assumption that a boy had never given you an ounce of attention. Even though he was somewhat correct- but how often did men treat girls like  _ this _ ?

“...o-okay.” You accept hesitantly.  _ Cecilia would understand.  _ Ernesto’s face lights up at your agreement as he lets out a hearty laugh, letting go of your chin and pressing a kiss against your cheek. He stands up and offers a hand to help you up as well. The moment you stand up, you are twirled around by Ernesto before ending up in a position where your back is pressed against his chest with both his arms wrapped securely around you. You’re surprised by the action and giggle weakly, "Ernesto, I-"

“You won’t regret this, mi pequeña flor.” He whispers. 

Letting you go, he smiles widely at you while offering you an arm. You take it, and he begins to lead you off the beach. Glancing back, you frown.  _ The stuff is still there.  _ y ou think, but say nothing of it. Ernesto leads you through the park to a road where a black car is parked, dimly illuminated by streetlights. From what little light there was, you could see it was a Buick, a model you’d only ever seen in movies. It was clear the car was well maintained- even in the dim light, the glossy finish of the car gleamed. 

Ernesto opens the passenger door for you to assist you inside the vehicle. At this point your heart was pounding in your chest and you  _ prayed  _ that he wouldn’t notice the way beads of sweat had begun to form on your forehead. As the door is shut, you finally have a few seconds of silence to think about what was about to happen. Really,  _ what  _ was about to happen? The driver’s side door finally opens and Ernesto steps in.

The ignition turns on, and you suck in a sharp breath as a hand is placed atop your thigh. You flinch slightly at this touch, unsure of whether or not you liked it, but De la Cruz's warm smile causes your rising uncertainty to slowly deflate. 

The car revs up and begins to move. 

There was no turning back now. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was alright... Ernesto seems really keen on getting reader to his house huh, wonder why?


	3. The Date: Part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was getting pretty late, wasn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter deals with quite mature subject matter, but is not completely NSFW.  
> also I realized the stupidness of making a /reader fanfic but making the reader a girl specifically... it was just easier to write that way XD  
> also again thank you to my friend for literally making this chapter perfect

Tucked away a fair distance from your home was de la Cruz’s house, overlooking the water near a cliff. On the ride over, you had imagined he was staying somewhere small and hidden, perhaps an apartment in the city. “Be warned, mi pequeña flor, it’s really nothing much,” He said. Your only thought was,  _ Thank god he’s just a simple, normal man when he’s not playing for the world.  _

The reality practically took your breath away. A sprawling estate awaited you as the tires crunched over its last grains of sand, already brightly lit against the dimming sky. White arches, almost as tall as the trees beside them, surround the entrance to his beachside house. From behind the gate of the main arch, you can faintly see a small fountain. You gazes are cut short when  Ernesto opens up your door for you, causing you to nearly fall forward onto the sand. Without a moment’s hesitation, he reaches down and holds your shoulder, keeping you from falling (though you’d already steadied yourself against the door’s handle). 

Ernesto’s temporary stay was  _ huge,  _ and it definitely bumped your angst up to a whole new level you didn’t even think was humanly possible of achieving.

You and your entire family lived on the second floor of the cantina. Mamá, Papa, mi hermana, tios and tias, abuelita, all in one place. Both you and Cecilia shared a room which was really no bother- although small and quaint, you two had made it work out just fine. It’s simply all you had.  _ All your family had.  _ Walking up the stone steps past the actual, fully-functioning  _ water fountain  _ to Ernesto's home made you feel somewhat sick. However, the arm that Ernesto had now looped around your waist comforted you in strange way and almost gave you a slight boost of confidence. Almost. 

He leads you off to the side where a small cobblestone pathway winded around the house to the back; the hanging leaves of two tropical trees on either side of the path partially obscure your view of the (comparatively) small, yet lush, backyard garden. It takes a moment to really take it all in- you were never all that into botan, but you  _ did _ recognize some of the plants as being part of a functional food garden, like the kind you had at your tía’s backyard- the ones you had as a  _ necessity _ ,  to keep costs at the cantina low. In the middle of the garden space was a pool connected to a smaller one, a jacuzzi, if you remember correctly. You’d been in a pool before, but never a jacuzzi… not that Ernesto would even invite you in it!

“This is such a beautiful area, Ernesto. I can only imagine how pretty it looks in the day.” You admire the garden a few steps ahead of Ernesto as he saunters behind you, hands stuffed into his pockets. “It’s alright, I suppose,” he responds cooly. “I have quite a few houses, somewhat bigger than this one, all around Mexico. They’re much more ipressive.”

You nod politely, not particularly interested in hearing the same things you could hear in any interview. You knew it was wrong, but you felt kind of..  _ Bitter _ , seeing all this wealth so close to an area where you constantly see dogs and beggars living together on the streets. You find yourself semi lost in your own thoughts and snap back into reality, smiling up at him.

“...ahah, well, enough about me.” 

He must have realized you didn’t hear whatever he’d just said. “Come, (yn), it is getting dark out here. We can share some champurrado by the fire and maybe you can show me some of those dances you can do?” At this request, you could feel your heartbeat quicken. It was really happening. He extends an arm for you to hold and you accept it as gracefully as possible, leading you around back to the front entrance of the house. 

Before you can take a step past the tiled floor opposite the house’s sliding door, Ernesto lifts a hand and places his boots neatly against the wall. The carpeted floor just ahead of you was pristine and white; it wasn’t something you were used to, but it made sense to want to keep the floor clean. You begin to kneel down to remove the shoes you had on, nice ones you rarely used, but found yourself stopped by his arm, now held slightly under your breasts as a result of the partial bend. Your heart feels as though it’s skipped a beat.  _ He didn’t mean for it to be here right? He wouldn’t... _

“No no, señorita, allow me.” You right yourself and stand, watching with a somewhat empty expression as he gets down and holds his hands out.  _ For what? _ , you wonder, before remembering what you were about to do. Your cheeks beginning to grow hot, you slowly raise a leg forward and he holds it- a little  _ too _ well, for your comfort- and runs his hands down it before gingerly unstrapping your shoe and putting it next to his; he repeats this for your other leg. Realizing you’d been holding your breath, you quietly exhale before stepping onto the carpet and letting him close the door and blinds behind you. 

You get a peek at his kitchen, the only thing so far that could be considered modest. As small as it was, it was still stocked with a four burner stove, an oven, a sink, and a refrigerator almost as tall and wide as Ernesto himself. On the wall next to the kitchen’s entrance was a small wet bar, nothing more than a small sink and a cabinet clearly stocked with a variety of drinks. Perhaps you could also show off what mixing talents you’d picked while cleaning the cantina? You caught only a glimpse of one more thing, the meat packaging from your local carniceria sitting on the counter. You only got a glimpse at them before Ernesto was done closing up, but you could have sworn they were labelled “chorizo,” among other things- something you were fed earlier that day. 

Ernesto brings you over to the couch and lights the fireplace as you get comfortable. You were about to open your mouth to ask him a question, but Ernesto stops you as he raises a finger and utters a simple, “ _ Wait, _ ” before hurrying off somewhere. You raise a brow and sit there, alone and confused. After a few minutes, he returns with  _ the _ guitar, the very same guitar that de la Cruz had used in most of his concerts and movies, the one he proudly showcased as his most prized possession. It was beautiful, and clearly taken well care of by the looks of it.

He loops the strap over his shoulder and moves to sit next to you with a kind smile as he places the guitar on his lap. “Would it be alright if you danced for me, (yn)?”

“...a-alright.” You slowly get up and smooth out your dress as well as fix your hair in an attempt to stall. Ernesto (unfortunately) notices this.

“Hey, hey, señorita. You have no reason to be nervous. Just  _ do what your heart tells you to do, whatever feels right _ . If it helps at all, you can just picture me in my underwear, eh?” He laughs and strums a few chords. “Do you know ‘Guadalajara Guadalajara’?”

“Si.” Your voice cracks. 

Giving you another reassuring smile, Ernesto glances down and starts the song before looking back up at you expectantly. 

Ernesto’s words of motivation echo in your head as you listen, tapping your heel for a few beats. You lift your skirt and with a deep breath, begin to dance. You were a truly beautiful sight to behold, a young woman pouring her heart and soul out with such fluent movements. A young woman dancing just beyond the older man’s grip as he watched with attentiveness, leaned forward in his seat as he played.

You end the dance with a flourish of your skirt, your chest heaving as you bow your head with a curtsy. Setting his marvellous guitar aside, Ernesto stands up and applauds. “Bravo, increíble!” Indeed, he looked genuinely impressed with your skill. Due to the fact that you were ill prepared as well as insanely nervous, it probably… wasn’t the  _ best  _ performance you had ever given, but you were talented regardless. Your efforts are rewarded with a piping hot mug of champurrado, something you were looking forward to earlier, but after what you just did, you opted for some water for the time being. You wiped away the rogue strands of hair sticking to your forehead and rested against a wall, keeping the refrigerated water cooler close to you. From here, you also got a chance to glance at the kitchen with more detail. There was no mistaking it, the packaging on the kitchen counter was definitely of some of the things you’d had at lunch. You were slightly annoyed that he’d lied about at least some of the food, but you figured such a busy man couldn’t make  _ everything _ by hand. He  _ was _ going to give you a nice, higher paying job after all.. Fully cooled down, you took your mug of champurrado back and gave it a cooling blow before carefully sipping the hot drink. Delicious as always, especially now that the cold of the outside was starting to get to you again. 

From the other side of the room, Ernesto stood there with his mug, watching you with a little smile. Awkwardly, you flash him a smile in return, absolutely unsure if he was judging you or not at this point. Although bothered by the fact that he’d lied to you about the food, you couldn’t help but feel grateful that he had actually let you dance for him. Your family (minus Cecilia) never appreciated your skill, thinking it was simply useless with no way of bringing in money. But here, standing across from you, was the man who could make your dreams come true in a matter of minutes. 

“(yn), you know what could be… fun?” Ernesto suddenly asks.

“What?”

He glances out a window that looked out into the backyard where the pool and jacuzzi was before fixating his gaze back on you with a smirk. You swallow hard and laugh a bit, “O-oh! Uh, that  _ would  _ be fun, but I don’t really have a swimsuit on me right now…” Yeah, there was NO way you were letting de la Cruz see you in a bathing suit anyways, especially right after eating! 

“Well, you can borrow one I have here, then. Come.” Turning, Ernesto leads you out of the room, up a flight of stairs (this was unbelievable, the man had a house with TWO VACANT FLOORS for himself!) and to a room with a closed door.  _ A closet? _

But it was no closet. As the door opened slowly, Ernesto urged you inside with a hand placed firmly on your shoulder. The room was warm and dark, the only source of light coming from a desk with a lamp. This was his bedroom. You laugh nervously, keeping your hands close together. It struck you as a little odd that he’d have womens bathing suits, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. “That’s a little forward,” you began, only to find Ernesto already a few steps away behind you, sipping on his drink. At the very least he understood you’d want some privacy. Shaking your head, you stepped forward and quietly closed the door behind you, hesitating a moment before turning the lock shut. The desk lamp provided some light, but even with it you felt.. Uneasy. You briefly scanned the room and found a light switch right beside you; the room now full of light, you felt  _ some _ relief, though there were still some feelings of unease that you couldn’t seem to shake. On the right side of the room was what looked like a closet- the ones at home had only ever stored a handful of different clothing, where this one stretched across the entirety of the wall. Sure enough, it was, and towards the middle neatly hung a long row of swimsuits. You leafed through them with some distaste. It was odd enough that he even had any here, but they were all rather.. Revealing. Far too much for your comfort. Your cheeks begin to burn red as you picture yourself in several of the suits you find. Sure, they were pretty and expensive looking, but seemed to be incredibly impractical. 

After doing some searching, you finally decide on a one-piece that,  _ of course,  _ had large gaps along the sides to show off some skin as well as a low cut neckline. You weren’t quite sure if it was even your size, but it was quite honestly the most modest one in the collection. You push your hair around behind you before you begin to undress as quickly and efficiently as possible. You can’t stop your fingers from fumbling at the zipper on the back of your dress, and with some frustration, you yank it down and let out a relieved sigh as the garment falls to the ground. Just as you’re about to continue undressing, the doorknob quietly rattles once. You freeze and stare at the door. “-Uhmm,”  _ If I hadn’t locked the damn door, he would have walked in on me half naked! He didn’t even knock!  _ You think in shock.  _...my god. I’m half naked in Ernesto de la Cruz’s room. _

“Ahh, (yn), I just wanted to let you know that the water is warmed up.” Ernesto calls from the other side, and you can  _ literally  _ hear his grip tighten on the handle as if he were trying to push the door. When you thought it was safe, you quickly continued getting ready, now in a much more panicked state. Squeezing into the bathing suit was a pain and took a lot of effort, and once it was on, you look at yourself in the mirror of a vanity. You  _ hated it. _ It hugged your features far too much. You sigh to yourself and scan the room in search for something, anything that could cover you up until you were out in the water. You spot a robe and make a beeline to grab it. It was oversized, but you felt… safe in it as it covered you.  _ He won’t be able to see my body in the water, it’s fine.  _ You reassure yourself, yet no matter how much you tried, nothing could shake off this feeling.  _ Why am I still here?  _

“(Yn), are you alright?”

“I’ll be out in a few minutes, just fixing my hair!” You lie. Here you were, in de la Cruz’s bedroom. You’d might as well have a quick look around, besides, with how  _ forward  _ he had been with you up till now, you felt justified in your worry. After all, you knew better than to let yourself be whisked away immediately by Ernesto’s charms. Quietly, you opened up the drawers across from his bed, carefully going through the items. It was nothing out of the ordinary- clothes, mostly shirts and underwear. In the third drawer, however, you found something interesting beneath the rows of socks; a small, leather bound journal. Holding your breath, you lift it to your head and leaf through the pages. _. El Camino a Casa. Un Poco Loco. Recuérdame?  _ Most of the pages were sheets of music, all written by hand. Preceding each one seemed to be a letter. You would have read more if you weren’t already stalling so much. A loud knock at the door interrupts your reading; panicking, you set it down under some ties, unsure of exactly where it had been hidden before, and close the drawer, but unknowingly left it ajar. You didn't care, you just needed to get out of there! Hurriedly, you adjust your hair and call out to Ernesto. “I’m ready, coming out now!” 

Tying up the bathrobe, you exit the room without another glance at the drawer. “Sorry I took so long, the um… the bathing suit didn’t fit too well.” you let out a breathless chuckle, silently praying that he wouldn’t mind you wearing his robe. Ernesto only smiled, his eyes briefly looking you over. “I’m sure you look beautiful. Can I s--”

“ _ No _ !”

“Oh!” Ernesto looks at you with some surprise before scratching the back of his head. “Oh, si, of course, forgive me.” 

You didn’t mean to sound so… well, rude, but… You offer him an apologetic smile and he seems to take it well. Ernesto then leads you back downstairs and explains to you that he kept a pair of swimming trunks in his suitcase, and to give him a moment to get changed. You wait patiently in the living room, unable to shake the thought of that journal. It seemed like such an odd thing for him to keep his music in a journal like that, and even stranger that he’d hide it. 

After a few moments, Ernesto returns wearing a simple white t-shirt and black swimming trunks. 

Together, you walk back out into the darkness of the backyard. With the flick of a switch, the space brightens up, every wall lit up comfortably. Still, the cold outside was much more intense than it was inside; the warmth of the jacuzzi seemed more inviting than ever. You hug yourself as you reach the jacuzzi and reminded yourself as all the reasons why this couldn’t have been a good idea, but you could feel Ernesto’s hard gaze on you.  _ He won’t see my body in the water.  _ Hesitantly, you untie the robe and peel it off, gently placing it to the side. Glancing down at yourself, you find yourself cringing at how skimpy and tight it looked, surely there was no way any man could find this attractive! 

You can feel Ernesto from behind you place a hand on your lower back and give a gentle push, and you take this as an invitation to step inside the water. It was at a perfect temperature and nice and bubbly, this comfort was exactly what you needed. But even in the water, your arms were instinctively crossed against your chest for good measure. 

Ernesto, however, did not join you, and instead walked around to the pool side where a diving board was placed. You simply sat in silence as you watched, eyebrows furrowed. He climbs up on the board and, with a surprising amount of skill, jumps!  _ His… his shirt is still on.  _ You think as you watch. Earlier, when the two of you had been on the beach, you had assumed that he was afraid of water due to the fact that he has refused to get too close. But watching him now proved your assumptions wrong,  _ he could really swim.  _ Ernesto doesn’t surface for a few seconds, causing you to worry that the man was in serious trouble, but he  _ does _ eventually emerge-- his chest bare. 

As he climbs out to finally come join you, you try your best not to look at him directly, a blush staining your cheeks. You (and many other people) had seen him shirtless in quite a few of his movies, so really this wasn’t  _ that  _ different, right? Yet even as he climbed in in front of you, you found yourself staring down at the water. 

“(yn)? Is there something wrong?” Ernesto suddenly asks. His voice seems to be soft and caring, it’s almost comforting. You look over at him and smile as you shake your head. “Oh, no, nothing. I’m just… a little tired, is all.”  _ Exhausted, actually.  _ “I’ve had a long day.” 

“Ahh, si. Well… is there anything I can do to help?” He presses. You shake your head once more, “You’ve done more than enough for me.”

“Are you  _ sure _ ?”

“...yes?”

Clicking his tongue and letting out a low chuckle, Ernesto is suddenly sitting next to you. “Hmm. I don’t buy it. Surely, something  _ more  _ could be done to make the night.. Special?” Your hand rises up from the water, not from its own volition but gingerly held in Ernesto’s palm. It's clear what he's leading you on to at this point- and for a moment, you genuinely feel an urge to agree. You weren't the type for such a quick and informal type of thing but.. He  _ was _ speaking of employing you. Perhaps..  _ No! _ You snap back to reality.  _ That type of relationship would be even  _ worse _ if he were to hire you.  _ You knew that something so inappropriate would certainly tarnish both of your careers… yours before you could even start it.

“Ernesto.. I don't- I'm not sure if that's really..” You hardly had the time to begin your sentence before you could feel a change in his movements, seeming more tense now than before. Through the water came his other arm, hugging your waist and pulling you closer. “Senora,” he began, “In times like this, there's no reason to think so hard, what this or that could mean. Really,  _ this _ is the time to seize your moment!” And seize it he did. With a firm pull at your waist, de la Cruz leaned forward and planted a long kiss right against your lips. You didn't struggle or resist, in this moment, it really  _ did _ seem right. But the moment went on; that wasn't just your mind, the kiss really  _ was _ dragging on for a while. His grip only tightened, one kiss turning to many, a hand wandering further down than you preferred. 

At once, you pulled your head away, and at once he let go. You weren't entirely sure how to feel about his little stunt. You said nothing, but could feel the heat growing on your cheeks. A hand rests on your shoulder, pushing your hair away from it and back behind you. His fingers brush against your cheek and graze against the edge of your ear. With a quiet chuckle, he stands up. “If that's as as far as you want to go tonight, that's okay. I can take you back home now, if you'd like- allow me to dry off. Perhaps I could give you one last song to end the night on while you do the same.” You remain silent, submerging deeper into the water until it is just under your neck. 

Ernesto climbs out of the tub and heads back inside. The second he steps inside, you release a long breath you hadn’t realize you’d been holding and sit up straight. With so many thoughts running through your head, you were unsure at this point of whether or not you had truly enjoyed what had just happened. Carefully, you get out of the warm water to dry yourself up and put the robe back on. Your thoughts are interrupted by the light in Ernesto’s room upstairs turning on. From out here, you can vaguely see the silhouette of his shadow in the window. He seemed to be bending down as if grabbing something…

You feel as if you heart had just stopped. The journal! You think back to when you were in his room flipping through the pages before you quickly shoved it back inside the drawer. “ _ Dios mio _ ,” you breathe as you hurry inside and rush back upstairs to his room. Ernesto looks over you in the doorway, the room behind him now dark and dimly lit by the green glow of the pool outside. However, instead of yelling at you, he smiles and reaches for his guitar. “My, my, (yn). In a hurry?” He asks. He was fully dressed now, wearing the same white button up with suspenders. 

“I… er… I was just really cold. I wanted to get my clothes, is all!” You try to sound cheerful. Ernesto nods his head in understanding and gestures over to where your clothes were, on his bed. “I’ll give you some privacy.” He steps out of the room and shuts the door. The way he was acting, you couldn’t tell if he  _ had  _ figured out that you found his journal. You simply prayed he didn’t, and swiftly get dressed.  _ I need to go home to Cecilia.  _

Once finished, you slowly open the door to let Ernesto back in, and he steps past you to sit on the edge of his bed with his guitar on his lap. He seems less… cheerful than before, you realize, as if he was in deep thought. He pats a hand on the bedding next to him as an invitation for you to join him. Reluctantly, you accept. He begins to play a song you don’t quite recognize, but it’s fast and upbeat. You frown, you knew practically all of his songs. So which one was this? 

To your surprise, he sets the guitar aside and continues to sing without playing. At this point, you weren’t quite sure what was happening but you go along with it and flash him a tight smile. Fingers graze against your bare shoulder as he sings, the tempo beginning to slow down. He gently traces a line down from your arm to your knee, beginning to gently caress it. Your eyes trail down to your knees as well before glancing nervously back at de la Cruz.

Ernesto continues to sing, staring deep into your eyes. You could barely see a glimmer of human emotion as that same hand slowly runs up underneath your skirt and onto your thigh. You couldn’t find it in you to move, but you  _ wanted to.  _ Something, a warning siren, was going off in your head now as a wave of uneasiness washed over you. Why was he doing this to you?

Clearing your throat, you slowly cross your legs, forcing Ernesto’s hand out from underneath the fabric. The song was coming to an end, and Ernesto seemed to be growing restless, irritated, despite the charming, ever tightening grin he had plastered onto his face. Suddenly, he grabs at your wrist and tugs you close, keeping you against his chest. You let out a soft grunt and try to pull away, but his grip on you is tight. You can feel a hand gingerly brush through your hair as if it were an attempt to calm you down as you continued to struggle. “Ernesto, I.. I  _ really  _ need to start heading home,” You stutter. A kiss is planted on your neck.

“I think you should  _ stay _ ,” He mumbles into your skin which causes you to shudder. You were not enjoying this, and it began to scare you. Raising your hand to his chest, you apply some pressure. But de la Cruz wouldn’t let you go. His grip seemed to tighten where he held and touched you, humming a tune-- still, he was smiling. 

You finally realized how much of a mistake you had made as fear overcame you; no matter what you did, he  _ wouldn’t stop.  _ His hands would brush up against your chest, back underneath your dress, anywhere they could touch-- all of this at once, it had become a blur. “Stop,” you whispered. 

“Stop what?” Came Ernesto’s muttered response. You can feel yourself begin to get pressed back into the bed, his body towering over yours-

“ _ Stop! _ ” 

Ernesto blinks and looks down at you, almost as if your cry had snapped him out of… whatever that was. Your eyes were squeezed shut with your arms wrapped around yourself defensively. Slowly, opening your eyes carefully, you find that the man is no longer on top of you.

He was now standing next to his dresser with a hand stuffed inside his pocket as he rummages through a cabinet. “I suppose it’s getting late, and you have your familia to get back to.” He says without moving. You slowly sit up and watch him, swallowing hard as you attempt to soothe your racing heartbeat through deep breaths. Yet, no matter what you tried, that same, terrified feeling would not subside. 

“I’d like to send you off with a toast.” Finally, he turns around, and was now holding two shot glasses filled with some sort of substance- tequila, probably. 

“...for?” You croak and instinctively inch away as he approaches you. You  _ hated  _ this newfound feeling of being so weak, so fragile, around de la Cruz.  _ I just want to go home. _

“A toast to your future as one of my dancers! I really did like what I saw.” He flashes you a smile and offers you a glass.  _ I danced once for him. That’s it. How can he expect me to work for him after what just happened?  _ You think bitterly as you stare up at him. But… the pay. You family needed that money. Sighing, you stand up and accept the offered glass. Even though you were extremely inexperienced with consuming alcohol, you felt that you really  _ did  _ deserve a drink.

“Salud!” Clinking both the cups together, you raise it to your lips and down it. Ernesto does the same.

Shortly after, Ernesto offers you give you a ride home to which you accept- only because you didn’t want to walk to your home which was quite a ways away. As you both exit the house, you steal one last glance back at it in all its glory, recounting all of the events that had just taken place within those walls. Ernesto notices this and gently places a hand on your shoulder, but you flinch, giving him a reminder that you did  _ not  _ want to be touched now. To this he looks solemn, and you wonder for a moment if he felt even an ounce of guilt for what he had tried to do to you… but he is silent, and opens the passenger door for you. 

As Ernesto pulls the car out of the driveway, a question crosses your mind:  _ How the hell were you going to explain any of this to Cecilia?  _ She was so young!  _ Should  _ you keep quiet about it? You, and Ernesto too, most likely, knew that word of what had happened would ruin his reputation. A soft sigh escapes your mouth. This man, your idol, turned out to be… far less than how he was broadcasted to be. It was somewhat lame. You were just glad it was over and you could finally leave.

But, these blissful thoughts of returning home to your eager sister were abruptly cut off as you feel a sharp pain shoot through your stomach. You groan and raise a hand to your forehead, where beads of sweat had begun to form. You felt  _ awful.  _

“(Yn)? Are you alright?” Ernesto asks as he looks at you out of the corner of his eye with a frown. 

“I… I don’t… I don’t feel so good. I need… air...” You pant.

“Maybe it was that chorizo from earlier,” Ernesto pulls over near a cliff, a popular stop that looked over the ocean that your town was so famous for. Before Ernesto could help you, you force the door open and stumble out, falling to your knees as you clutch your stomach in pain. 

The thunderous crashing of waves beat against the cliff wall.

You can feel your eyes glaze over as your vision becomes blurry, as  _ everything  _ becomes blurry.  _ Home,  _ the word echoes in you head as you feel as if your own spine had given out, causing you to fall on your back as you writhe in pain. 

Dark spots begin to cloud your vision, and you are absolutely mortified. But the pain… the pain was starting to dim… and with it your thoughts as your breathing slows. And just before you succumb to what felt like would be a deep slumber, you can make out Ernesto’s distorted figure kneeling down beside you. His face displayed a look of genuine sadness, but in those eyes…  _ nothing.  _

The sounds of the waves fade into silence. 

 

\--

 

The light at your desk buzzes.  _ Ay, another new arrival. _ “Quien es?’ you holler. “Una chica- she looks like she was all dolled up for the prom!” You glance at the callendar. “It’s not prom season, stupid.” you sigh and rub your temple, putting down the book you had been reading and stand up. You get on what little gear was provided to you for handling these matters- gloves, a surgical mask- and follow your partner outside. Your bones ache and creak, but that’s to be expected after so many years of doing the same thing. Your partner was right, she  _ was _ all dressed up. You kneel down and get a look at her. “Muy linda, eh?” You smack him, knowing she’d be awake to hear you two very soon. As you predicted, the eyes sunken back into the girl’s skull flutter open. And like always, she backs away, frightened, lashing out at you, only to raise her hand to her face in horror. You nod your head, signaling your partner to go behind her and catch her when she inevitably fainted. She fainted. He gave her a little shake, “come on now, chica, we can’t have you fainting!” 

“I’m- you’re, he..” You nod again, patting her back and giving her a skeletal hand up. “Si, si, we’ve heard it all before. Now get up, there’s a lot of paperwork to still file before you can really settle down here.” 

“Here? Settle- no no, I need to get back to my sister, to my..” She turns behind her to see nothing but emptiness, with a bright light far in the distance. “...home.” 

“Senora, this  _ is _ your home now- or, it will be once we find your ancestors.” 

“My ancestors?” 

“Si, welcome to the land of the dead!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ernesto de la Cruz is quite honestly a sociopath, and there is *no way* he has only ever just killed one person who threatened his chance at fame. Or, in this case, he saw reader as a threat to his career as well as reputation... these are the lengths he is willing to go to protect himself! I hope, if you happen to go back to reread the chapters, you can pick up on some of the warning signs Ernesto demonstrated because they were 100% intentional. As for what happens to you in the land of the dead... who knows? Will your family ever find out the truth? Will *you*?


End file.
